


A pair fit for despair

by The_last_Dantes



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:47:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25634548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_last_Dantes/pseuds/The_last_Dantes
Summary: Vlad gets caught in another one of jack's problematic inventions, and makes the grave mistake of severely underestimating the extent of the damage done.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	A pair fit for despair

**Author's Note:**

> I think this goes without saying, but i don't own danny phantom, this is just for fun :)
> 
> The chapters will get progressively longer as i get in to the rhythm of things.

Vladimir masters was a man known for his composure and formality at all given times.

The stone smile of a well versed politician.  
Seeing him in any state of distress was utterly unheard of.

That’s what made the phone call so disturbing.

It was short and strict, a simple pick up from Fenton works, a location his employer would frequent from time to time. Often leaving the premises with an irritated attitude.  
Nothing out of the ordinary in that aspect, quite a common request actually, but his tone of voice was lacking in its usual smooth conciseness.

The fact that his voice had got a distinct stutter to it, that the Vladimir masters he was employed under would much rather die than show a sign of weakness.

Well it was all he could think about, while he waited in the shadow of Fenton works.

Then, one Vladimir Masters stumbled out of Fenton works.

Practically running into the car, with a shake to his hands and a paled expression.

Well, sure to say, unease immediately sunk deep in his chauffer's gut.

Not once in his borderline thirteen years of service for the man, had he seen Mr Masters unpoised. Sure he had witnessed a few odd things along the way; puffs of scentless smoke even tho the man never si much as lay a hand on a cigar or smoke. He'd also noted odd reflections in glimpses amongst other things.  
But his salary was high, so he gave them no mind.

But this

This unsettled him to his core.

What was capable of shattering Vlad masters' unbreakable mask.

Whatever it was, he prayed he'd never have the displeasure of experiencing such a thing.

______________________________________

Everything was overwhelming.

He could feel the warning signs of the panic attack seeping into his vision as he all but threw himself into the car.

The ride was blessedly silent, his chauffer seemed to have picked up on his lack of want, for any kind of conversation.

His nerves still on edge as he returned to his current residence in polter heights.

He fumbled around, butter fingers engaging the rather excessive amounts of locks. Up until the last click and beep chimed.

What he wouldn't give to be in his castle. the irritatingly charming spirit of the dairy king would be a welcome distraction. far from the bumbling disaster left in the wake of jack Fenton’s clutch.  
Jack manages to permeate his thoughts, even now.

The man would never learn,  
And history would always repeat itself.  
This seemed to be an inevitable truth when concerning Jack Fenton.

Trudging through his mansion Vlad managed to drag himself to his personal lounge before collapsing down into a large sofa, digging his face into the plush drapes  
For a while after that time stilled to a blur.  
His actions not his own as he focused on the simple action of filling his lungs before his surroundings faded.

When he came to his senses his hands felt clammy.  
The smokey logs crackling beneath the mantelpiece, they smelt too strong.

The relentless ticking of that stupid grandfather clock, why did ge even buy such a thing? the shrill sound was becoming to much to bear.

The bittersweet burn of the spiced rum, when had he poured himself a glass, either way it had become an unpleasant sting.

Each sense felt like an intrusion, it made no sense.

That was until Vlad drew up his sleeves.

The blisters, if he could even call them that, were just peeking under the cuff of his rolled up shirt. At fist glance they looked like a deep bruise, with blood pooling in blotched dots beneath the skin. 

But the dim light of the room revealed the faint trails of luminous pink which scattered across his upper arm.  
It was like a grotesque imitation of ecto acne.

Fear pooled in his veins as he tore off his shirt. Revealing the larger splotches that stained his torso. His chest heaving as he tried to fill his lungs.

His ecto acne had been cured.

This was something else.

He threw up.

**Author's Note:**

> So my first dp fic that i'm actually putting out there.  
> Since my castlevania fic has stagnated a bit, and i keep pulling blanks on where i wanted to go with it, i decided to write some other vladdy content.
> 
> Vlad is a trash man who i love to torment.  
> Maybe i'll spice things up with a sprinkle of redemption arc.


End file.
